Anew
by Feigned Validity
Summary: A hospital in Montana is quarantined due to an outbreak of unknown origin. Over a decade after Raccoon City's demise, tragedy strikes in the most personal of places once more. Jill/Becca. Rated M for explicit descriptions of violence & eventual F/F lemon.
1. After Her

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Resident Evil or any characters, settings, symbols, etc. therein. Those are owned by Capcom. If you enjoy the characters and stories enough to come here and read a piece of fiction dedicated to them, go buy their games. Support the product you love.

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><p><strong>Anew<strong>

Prologue: After Her

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><p><em>May 21, 2011 – 21:37<em>

_New Ardency, Montana, USA_

_...- - -..._

This was reckless. Horribly, shamefully reckless.

But it wasn't like she had a choice at this point.

Blanketed by the scarce amount of shadow to be found in a sea of cars and floodlights, the woman worked in silence on the door nearest the building's dumpsters, her nostrils flaring every now and then at the smell of rotting hospital food that only compounded her reason for choosing this spot. Every news station, paper, blog and worried pedestrian within a twenty mile radius was here, trying to catch a glimpse of the chaos held within the quarantined building. If there was any spot they wouldn't bother to be around, the one lathered in spoiled milk and old eggs would have to be it.

Luckily enough for Jill Valentine—though "lucky" wasn't a word that could easily be attributed to the situation at hand—the chaos surrounding New Ardency Hospital was held back by a diligent, small town police force. Or collection of police forces, she assumed. Montana wasn't a particularly interesting source of national news most days—or most years. But when the quarantine hit, the news consumed the everydays of anyone who could point out New Ardency on a map like a summer wildfire. Six surrounding schools even cancelled classes today, on account of families' proximity to the quarantine. Sick mothers and uncles and baby cousins were stuck in there now, for nearly a full twenty-four hours thus far. Jill could only imagine what it must've felt like for someone to not know what was happening with her sick relative, or her mother who got stuck with a night shift one night prior. But for the moment, her imagination was held in check.

The new, modern white building stood in silence surrounded by disorganized mobs of impatient civilians, its exterior betraying the chaos that was likely carrying on inside. Windows had sealed themselves in a new age quarantine system, one instituted following the incredible virus outbreaks of which Jill had been all to aware in the past decade or so. However, cutting communications with the outside world wasn't one such fail safe. That happened. People stuck on the outside were oblivious to just what had happened, or was happening on the inside of the ivory, seven story tower. But with Raccoon City still in the minds of residents so close to the _incident_, it was safe to assume to where the general population's thoughts had jumped. When an entire hospital sealed its doors and windows to prevent anything from coming in or out, the situation was dire indeed.

However, even the newest of defenses had a failure, and Jill was busy working on one such fault. Skilled, pinkish white digits handled the lock picks, digging one long, skinny metallic piece into the keyhole while the other scooped around, trying to click each tiny slab down into place. The brunette, trademark ball cap shielding her eyes, tried not to make a habit of looking over her shoulder, but she couldn't help but check at least once or twice as her muscles twitched with a dangerous excitement, the kind that betrayed the mind that knew how dangerous the situation was. Adrenaline kept the woman on edge as she knelt on the cold concrete, the evening's chill trying to cool the beads of sweat that formed on the base of her neck. It was strange how an act she'd performed under pressure so many times before had suddenly left her in a batch of nerves. But then again, she'd never had such a personal rescue on her shoulders before.

Finally, she heard a final 'click'. Harmless and tiny, it pounded alongside her heartbeat in her ears like a fire alarm, as though its resonating sound would turn every head behind her. Expecting just such a happening, Jill swooped a glance over her surroundings again, leaning just enough to the side to look past the row of dumpsters, low ponytail flipping along her neck like a fluttering feather and nearly startling her into a jump. The skilled operative had never felt so nervous. Not since...

Valentine heaved a sigh without a sound, closing her eyes as she faced the newly unlocked door and mechanically slid her lock picks back into her utility pocket, which hung snugly from her belt. The task at hand was critical. Beyond critical. Every decision she made, every movement she chose, every second she wasted would lead to an ultimate, life-changing conclusion. She couldn't forget that. This may not be Uroboros or an entire Raccoon City, but on a personal level, it was more than either. It was more than the fight for her own life. It was more than worrying about Chris trying to be a superhero. It was more than finding a madman who'd haunted her dreams for over a decade.

It was so much more.

Without backup or proper knowledge of the situation into which she was hurling herself, the BSAA agent stood in a half-bent posture to stay inconspicuous in the shield of darkness and looked over her shoulder one last time as she pushed her weight down into the revolving handle and pulled. No alarm—no audible one, anyway—to her luck. No one had caught notice of her; no one had turned, pointed a finger and yelled for her. At least the mission didn't die right then and there.

Her eyes stuck on the disorganized mob of pedestrians and officers alike, Jill faded inside and let the door shut behind her with another inconsequential click.


	2. Memories Reanimated

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Resident Evil or any characters, settings, symbols, etc. therein. Those are owned by Capcom. If you enjoy the characters and stories enough to come here and read a piece of fiction dedicated to them, go buy their games. Support the product you love.

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><p><strong>Anew<strong>

Chapter One: Memories Reanimated

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><p><em>May 20, 2011 – 23:12<em>

_New Ardency, Montana, USA_

…- - -…

New Ardency Hospital still smelled like a new building. It was established only three years ago, once the small town of New Ardency and the surrounding area grew enough to warrant one. In typical hospital fashion, everything from the elaborate tile configuration to the nooks and crannies behind medical equipment were kept in tip-top, cleanly states at all times. But being a nurse in a _new _hospital since the day it opened its doors gave a new perspective to Rebecca Chambers.

A grown woman of thirty-one now, it was hard to believe where she'd been up to this point in her life. Once a prodigy graduating her university at eighteen, she went against all the safe career choices and vouched for being the best cop she could, knowing that the real service lied in protecting people who really needed it. But she came to regret that decision after what happened in the Arklay Mountains. Deeply.

She'd found an escaped convict in a wood area infested with _zombies_, barely escaped with her life only to watch more of her friends die in a holed up mansion, then wallowed in her own sorrow and bad dreams for years afterward. It was ridiculous to think that such a gifted person had let herself crawl into a hole so willingly, but few had seen what she'd seen. Few knew the horrors of watching the animated dead, of watching _people_, dead and decaying, come back to life as mindless husks with only cannibalistic instincts left in their dying brains. Even Rebecca herself couldn't piece together the feelings such a sight created—pain, misery, fear, sympathy, despondency, listlessness—the list varied and grew through the years.

Truth be told, she was a sensitive soul. Rebecca still had a hard time allowing herself to use that as an excuse for her behavior, but it was true. She knew. She wasn't prepared for what happened at Raccoon City—who could have been?—but what ultimately doomed her was her lack of resolve afterward. When the adrenaline left her and the wounds healed... sh couldn't just return to life. She couldn't understand how the others could, either. Every face she saw was another reanimated dead waiting to happen, a life wasted and turned into an abomination. Her childish fears of monsters under the bed returned with a more vivid clarity than she'd had as a child; those monsters had faces. They were hunters, leeches, oversized bugs, tyrants. They had death for faces and murder for limbs, covered in blood both their own and of their victims. The smell... Oh, the smell of rotting flesh that all of them shared, that made Rebecca want to puke every time one came near while she blindly fired away to keep it the hell away from her.

Everything was so clear in those memories. Clearer than those of her college friends, or her memories of her now deceased family, or even the memory of yesterday morning. Fear consumed her when she was alone. But luckily, for now, she wasn't alone.

Rebecca mindlessly checked off each utensil before her, not needing the actual checklist before her to know what should be where and of what quantity. She had a knack for memorization, a skill that helped her immensely back in her valedictorian days, and as such, she could catalogue med supplies in her sleep if need be. The intern at her side, though, wasn't so lucky. A woman of only twenty-three, she had soft features that molded into vibrant shapes according to what she was feeling; such a pure soul, her face betrayed her when she tried to quell her emotions. Rebecca could tell exactly when she was anxious or uncomfortable, just as she could tell within moments of her entering the building two weeks ago that she'd had quite a lovely night the day before.

"Vanessa," Chambers spoke as her fingers traced over the last row of supplies, her voice as soft as a mouse, as it had been all her life. She turned her attention to the colored girl beside her, emerald eyes catching the chocolate brown ones that twitched with a nervous back and forth motion. Vanessa was in purple scrubs with her mess of thick, ebony hair tied back into a makeshift bun, clipboard with judgmental papers at the ready for whatever Rebecca said. It was odd, having power over someone's future. Rebecca didn't like it so much, but it came with being one of the top nurses in the building. What made it even odder was the height of the intern; she towered over Chambers.

With a smirk toying with the corner of her mouth, Rebecca turned her attention back to the display on the stocking shelf before her. She raised her hands to shoulder height in a "well, that's it" motion. "I don't see anything out of place this time. Good job." There was a perk in her voice when she turned her head again to see the relief in Vanessa's whole body: her shoulders dropped as though she'd been holding her breath for hours, and her smile spread into two rows of starkly contrasting ivory whites. The girl put so much pressure on herself to succeed in even the most mundane things; Rebecca could so easily relate.

"Thank you, Miss Chambers," she answered in a sighing voice. She'd messed up cataloguing twice now since being given the chore; minor mistakes, of course, but even the tiniest mistake could mean major consequences for a patient. Rebecca merely nodded, her light brown bangs moving in stride.

"I told you, sweetie. Just call me Rebecca." Chambers let her head tilt to the side to accompany a welcoming smile as she said it, then motioned past the intern and waved for her to follow her. She was likewise wearing scrubs, though in the green variety, with a stethoscope hanging around the back of her neck and white Chuck Taylors on her feet. She was the only person in the building who wore the shoes, but she adored them; put in some gel cushions and she had the most comfortable shoes possible for these late nighters. Truth be told, not much had changed in her style since she was younger. She'd had the same haircut since she discovered she looked weird with long hair in the sixth grade, she still stuck to her favorite shoes like a bad obsession, and her physique remained largely the same to boot, minus a bit more curviness that came with age. She still looked quite young—a lucky trait, as she was often reminded by her peers—while possessing the knowledge of someone twice her age. Really, the only outward change to her since her police days was the choke collar—God, that was a bad fashion statement, she thought now.

"Okay," the elder nurse continued as she moved forward, speaking to Vanessa in tow over her shoulder. "So you've successfully managed that closet. But weren't you supposed to be out of here at eleven?"

"Mm, yes ma'am. But Dr. Graham says we should never expect to leave right on schedule. People are at stake and all—"

"Dr. Graham's just trying to go hard on you, Vanessa," Rebecca quipped with a hint of a chuckle. "Go home. It's a slow night, you handled your duties, and you kept from putting the syringes in the totally wrong cabinet this time. Say hi to Rick for me." She fully turned and leaned against the check-in desk for their floor, extending a hand to take the clipboard from Vanessa while offering a wider smile than before. Rebecca was glad to see it returned.

As Vanessa gave her thanks and goodbye then trotted off to the elevator, Rebecca checked off what she was too apathetic to do earlier, then handed it off to the lady behind the desk. They had some idle chitchat about who knows what, just like every other time Rebecca passed by, and then the brunette was off again. Truth be told, there was no such thing as a slow night in a hospital, but Rebecca had noticed a lot of patients leaving as of late. It was slow_er _than usual, but there was plenty still left to do. She ran through a checklist in her mind of patients left to check in on before midnight, then checked her beeper to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Of course she hadn't, but she knew she'd check it again in ten minutes anyway.

The hospital was its usual self, with people she knew and barely knew passing by her, carting supplies and beds, hastily running through medical records while walking into almost anything that they could bump into, and ultimately always moving to wherever they were needed next. Slow moments weren't really afforded, save for lunch breaks. But it was perfect for Rebecca. It was when she came home to nobody but her dog that things got... worse.

For now, though, she couldn't let her fear of silence overcome her. Busyness was the best cure, and she had plenty to keep her busy. She was the hardest worker here for a reason other than her incorrigible work ethic; the instinctive trait and her personal need compounded quite nicely, for the hospital's sake.

And to think, she wouldn't even be here had it not been for—

There was a scream.

_A scream_.

Had she imagined it? No; screams happened sometimes. People were in pain. Kids were scared of shots.

But it wasn't a kid. It was a grown man.

Which wing did it come from? Rebecca whirled as if something were behind her. She couldn't even remember from where the sound had come from now, but every other sound was now as good as silence in her ears. If anyone was moving, she didn't notice. Hairs stood at the back of her neck as horrible images flew through her mind. Her chest tightened, as though someone was pushing down on it. Someone... Someone reanimated, reaching his cold, dead palms out for her, fingernails torn to shreds from when he was still living, fighting for his life and feeling his heart slow to a painful, ultimate stop...

Rebecca jolted as if shocked with a defibrillator in the middle of the hallway when she came back to reality. The undead before her vanished and the lights came back on in her eyes, their florescent, sanitary flickering followed by the humming of a heater and the beeping of a heart monitor somewhere. One by one, Rebecca's senses came back, heightened by her sudden adrenaline rush.

Then her brain turned back on.

_No. No. You're imagining things, Becca,_ she convinced herself quite thoroughly. At the same time, she found it ridiculous that she had to convince herself of it so harshly, like an addict trying to stay away from her addiction. _Not here. Not ever again. It could never happen again._

Searching around her for evidence to prove her point, she found that most other heads were turned, if only for the sake of curiosity. Nobody looked covered in a cold sweat. Nobody was running or panicking. Chambers noted that the hallway seemed… emptier than usual. Had it always been this empty and she never noticed? She took a few steps forward, going far too slowly for a casual pace as she peeked around the entrances of a few rooms. Empty... empty... occupied... empty...

Where had all the patients gone? She never remembered seeing the hospital so lacking. She'd noticed a lighter work load, and had more time to revisit patients in need, but how had she not noticed that half of this wing consisted of free rooms?

Another scream.

And another.

Now every head was turned in the direction of the terrified voices—was it more than one now? Rebecca felt her imagination overcoming her again before she shoved it away, shaking her head violently. She had to be rational. Maybe she was imagining everything? Maybe she was working too hard. She had to do the pinch test, figuratively speaking.

"Anna?" She rushed over to the same counter she'd just left, grabbing the edge of it with a strangely white-skinned grip. Her scared, green eyes betrayed her as the rest of her tried to stay calm and indifferent; her voice only continued the treason when she gathered her words. "Is—was that—What was that? The screaming, I mean. Do we have an evac—"

Rebecca's head turned so violently that she nearly snapped her neck in the process when the scream came again. She could feel the air around her thicken and the people around her feel the same, unless that was just her imagination again. Misery loved company, after all.

"There it is again," she discharged her words without much for spaces between them, sounding like one big, frantic compound word. Anna, having a full decade on Rebecca in age, held up her hands to visibly ask her to relax herself before getting up out of her swivel chair.

"Calm down, hun. Came from CIC. Probably just a guy with a weak pain tolerance."

The scream came again. It was… draining. Like the energy was leaving the person trying to do it. Rebecca's second instinct told her he was being put under to help with the pain, but her first...

"I'll call CIC," Anna said without being prompted, obviously having seen Rebecca's petrified expression. Her eyes were still wide as her imagination betrayed her, and she clung to the edge of the desk as though it would fly away from her at any moment if she didn't.

"Yeah, could you do that?" Rebecca asked, even as Anna brought the phone to her ear and pressed the necessary buttons. She watched Anna's listless expression for any ill changes for a painful eternity of a few seconds, but nothing changed. Anna continued to wait, staring blankly at the monitor before her. Apparently agitated, she looked up for a moment, then back at the monitor again. Nothing changed again until she hung up the phone with a machine-like enthusiasm.

Her even tone matched. "Not answering. Probably a bad situation they're trying to control. Just get back to what you were doing and I'll call your patient's room if I find out what's happening. 'Kay?"

Rebecca wasn't okay with that answer; it showed in her eyes. But the rest of her calmly nodded in agreement and pushed off the counter. "Okay." After a step and a pause, she added, "Thanks."


End file.
